Abby gets the worst of it
by gotgoats
Summary: Abby fights a cold for an entire week before falling to it.  Unfortunately, she is also a girl, and Mother Nature has it in for her.  Lots of Papa Gibbs, sick Abby, certainly AU.  Warning: girl topics, not your thing, please don't read.


Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or any of it's characters...but I can dream, can't I?

Abby was ten steps beyond miserable, and she was certain she was going to die. Her throat had been scratchy all week, and she'd been fighting off a fever on Friday, which she knew Gibbs would have sent her home over had he known about it. But the team had been out all day, and Ducky had been busy. So she'd worked. Overtime. And everything hit her at once.

She'd started her period first thing this morning and had cramps. The horrible kind that she'd not had since she was a teen. The fever she'd been outrunning had finally caught her. 102.3. Even her skin hurt. She knew she should go to the doctor. But she didn't have the energy to call for an appointment, let alone drive there. Yes, she could call Ducky, but it was the first Saturday any of them had had off in over three months.

She didn't even want to think about her stomach. Her aching, sore, raw, nothing made it happy, stomach. She'd already been in and out of the bathroom so many times that morning, and now was afraid to even try a sip of water. Ginger ale would help…if only she had some. So she settled for holding her pillow tight and crying herself to sleep.

Jethro Gibbs was getting concerned. He never got worried, he told himself. He was concerned. That was why he was breaking the speed limit to get to Abby's apartment. DiNozzo had tried to call her, with no response. So Tony called Gibbs to see if Gibbs knew where Abby was, and the older agent's gut clenched. But no, he wasn't worried. He arrived at her apartment in record time, beaten only by his time during the Michael Mawer case. He raced up the stairs inside her building and was surprised to hear it silent on the other side of her door. He raised his hand to knock, and then decided against it.

Abby usually had music going. Not terribly loud, but loud enough to hear just outside of her door. He dug out his key and put it into the lock, letting himself in. His gut twisted sharply again when he was greeted by a wall of heat in the otherwise air-conditioned building. Not enough for a fire, but something was definitely wrong. His ears picked up a faint groan, and he headed for the bedroom.

She wasn't in her bed, but the bathroom door was open, and he could see her bent over her toilet. Tears ran down her face as she dry-heaved once again. Her muscles ached from the strain, and she whimpered as she felt another wave coming on. Gibbs stepped out into her living room and dialed Ducky.

"Mallard residence." Ducky's voice held it's usual calm.

"Hey, Duck."

"Ah, Jethro. What can I do for you?"

"Abby's sick. Don't know how bad. Just came to check on her, and she's dry-heaving it. Can you…"

"Why, of course. I assume you are at her apartment?"

"Got it in one." With that, he hung up and headed into the bathroom, stopping on the way in at her hall closet to grab a washcloth and towel.

She sat miserably on the side of the tub, her head resting on the tank of, to her at the moment, the most offensive piece of…appliance…in the house. Her eyes were closed, and she was nearly asleep, when she heard him speak.

"Can't sleep there, Abby." Cool fingers brushed the hair from her sweaty forehead and ran an even cooler washcloth over her face and down the back of her neck. She just hmmmmm'd in response.

Gibbs talked to her for a moment while he poked through her medicine cabinet. He asked her what was going on, not really expecting much of an answer. He smirked at the quiet snore that was her reply.

He picked her up and carried her to her bed, covering her up so that all that poked out of her pile of blankets was her head. Then, he went to the thermostat and turned it down. The heat may feel good now, but it wasn't what she actually needed. A cooler room would do her good. He went through her cupboards. And smirked. She was a chip off the old block, if he was the block. Ramen noodles, stuffing mix, and a can of fruit just to say it was there.

Ducky arrived a few minutes after his search ended, and he let the doctor in.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Not sure. She was bent over the pot when I got here, fell asleep on the side of the tub leaning against said pot." Ducky's eyebrows went up. That was not like their Abigail at all. "I carried her to bed and got her settled in. Turned down the thermostat. She slept through it all."

"I see. And I see you have your keys in your hand?"

"Yeah. No crackers or anything. Thought I'd run out and get her some essentials."

"Ah, do be a good man and be sure to pick her up a new bottle of ibuprofen. She came and got some from me two days ago and said she was out."

"That would be why I didn't find a bottle. Call if you want me to get anything else?"

"I certainly shall." Both men nodded and turned to their respective duties.

Ducky spoke softly to Abby and began his examination. Once she woke, he put a thermometer under her tongue and waited for it to beep while he told her of a young boy who had a strange illness that no one had been able to diagnose.

She listened patiently and let him do his thing. When he asked if she thought she might be pregnant, one of the questions he apologized for, she told him no, that she'd started her monthly that morning. Part of her problem was cramps. He completed his exam, confident that the young lady before him had a bad case of the flu and severe cramps. All she would need is rest and a good broth or two. Perhaps a cool shower.

He sent her to the bathroom with clothes in hand, and stepped out to call Jethro.

"Gibbs."

"Ah, it's nothing serious, my boy. Our Abigail has a bad case of the flu and it is unfortunately her time of the month, as well."

"Anything in particular I should get her?"

"Perhaps some comfort food for later, I know you're getting crackers and soda. No caff-pow, Jethro. And a heating pad would be wonderful for her. It helps with the cramping."

"Yeah, Duck. Married four times, remember?"

"Oh, yes. I must remember to whom I am speaking."

"Do me a favor and ask what kind of pads she uses."

"What kind of pads? Jethro, I hardly think now is the time to be asking about office supplies." Jethro heaved a long suffering sigh.

"Kotex, Ducky. Kotex. What kind does she use?"

"Oh, I don't believe she's in the shower yet. Let me ask." Abby stood at the sink, toothbrush working furiously over her tongue.

"Abigail my dear," He began nervously. Had she not felt so bad, she would have smiled over his blush. "What sort of, um, kotex do you use?"

She glared at him for a brief moment, decided that she didn't care if King Kong wanted to know at this point, and reached under the sink for the package. He relayed the information to Jethro regarding brand, size, type and package color. He handed the bag back to Abby and was promptly shoved back out the door so she could bathe.

He chuckled as he thought of Leroy Jethro Gibbs standing in an aisle in the store looking over the many shelves of products in search of the proper one. Jethro, however, wasn't smiling. They seemed to be out of her kind. Great. How can a store run out of something obviously essential to women? He grumbled and headed to the checkout with his purchases, knowing he would need to make another stop.

The clerk was a woman with laughing eyes, obviously finding something funny with his purchases. He fairly glared at her.

"I take it this is not something you do every day?" She scanned the heating pad and looked up into his glare. "Don't be so grumpy about it. Believe me, whether you're dad or husband or boyfriend, you're going to be in her books as the greatest thing since sliced bread." She smiled as his features relaxed. "I'm gonna guess daughter?"

"Yeah, she's got the flu and this is going on. Having a bad day." He smiled slightly back. He couldn't stop himself. Her eyes laughed, and called to him to do the same.

"Well, you're a good dad. Except for this soup." She held up a can of what had been Kelly's favorite. "Really? Unless you're sure she likes this, don't torture her." He did smile then and shook his head.

"Fine, leave it out. What would you suggest?" After telling him a few "mom" tips, she sent him on his way to another store. He nearly head-slapped himself. How did he get roped into this? On a Saturday, no less. That's right, it was for Abby.

Nearly an hour after he'd first left, he returned loaded with multiple bags. Ducky raised his eyebrows, but strangely said nothing about the amount of purchases as he helped Jethro put away canned goods and various necessities in her kitchen. Gibbs headed off to Abby's bedroom quietly. He peeked in first, saw her sleeping, and snuck into her bathroom. He put her other things down under the sink and returned to the kitchen where Ducky was brewing a fresh pot of tea.

"So Jethro, what possessed you to buy all of this?"

"When a girl doesn't even have crackers, much less soup, it's time to get her cupboards full." Ducky's eyes twinkled and he stood after regaling Jethro with a story of a time when he was in Punjab, India and a curious case he saw there.

Gibbs let Abby sleep for a while longer, and then began to heat up the soup he'd gotten instead of his original purchase. He put biscuits in the oven and brewed more tea. Twenty minutes later, he walked into her room, tray in hand, and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, Abs." He shook her lightly.

"Hm?" She rolled over and looked up at him.

"What are you doing here? Ducky was just here."

"He left a while ago. I was the one to call him." She yawned and snuggled back into her covers. "You hungry? Ducky told me you had some tea a bit ago, and it stayed down. Wanna try some soup?"

Abby thought for a moment before nodding.

"What are you doing here?"

"DiNozzo called, and you didn't answer. I called, same thing. So I came over. And you were having a war with the toilet. It won, by the way." He smirked down at her when she groaned. "Carried you to bed and called Duck."

She groaned. This was bad. She'd thrown up in front of Gibbs, and not only that, but if Ducky had checked her out, then they knew the whole messy business. She wanted to hide under a rock. It may be natural, but it was still embarrassing that cramps could do this to her.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Just embarrassed. Haven't had cramps this bad since high school."

"I understand that it happens. Now, do you want this here, or do you want to get up?"

"I think here." She looked ready to fall back to sleep. "Kinda dizzy." Gibbs sat with her for hours that day, and when it was time for him to go, he made sure that there was plenty of food made for her, so all she'd have to do is nuke it.

"Thanks, Gibbs." She sleepily hugged his hand from where she lay under the covers. Her new heating pad was held tightly to her abdomen, a cup of tea sat on her bedside stand, along with ginger ale and a new bottle of ibuprofen.

He waited until she was asleep, made sure she was all tucked in, and left. He locked the door behind him on the way out, still feeling like he was forgetting something. It wasn't until he'd reached his car that he knew. He'd forgotten to take out her trash. Oh, well. He'd be back tomorrow to check on her.


End file.
